


Waiting for You

by LindeHobbit



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindeHobbit/pseuds/LindeHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Injured in an off-ship mission, Kirk recovers in the care of Bones and his friends. But he can't shake the feeling that someone is missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for You

Awareness returned slowly, piecemeal. The first things his mind began processing were noises, some high-pitched, others lower, some coming quickly, others filtering in more slowly and gently. Gradually the sounds began organizing themselves into recognizable words…”Jim” “vital signs” “broken bones” “fever” “shock” “stop the bleeding” “hold on, Jim, hold on” “need to get him back to the Enterprise” “have to wait until this storm dies down” “not much time.” The voices were caring, and he knew they were familiar, the voices of friends who were trying to help him. But he could not find the energy to acknowledge them. Indeed, even opening his eyes seemed too overwhelmingly exhausting to consider. He felt detached from his body; it was a complex thing that he could not quite comprehend. The pain would come later, and it would remind him of his corporeal self, but it had not come yet. All he had were the sounds, and they comforted him, though there was a vague feeling that something, or someone, was missing. There was a voice he wanted to hear, but it wasn’t there. Maybe later. The restful blackness was rising to take him again, and he surrendered to it gratefully. 

The next time Jim was aware of anything, it was pain. He was being moved, and twin fires had ignited in his side and his right thigh. He forced his eyes to open, and cried out involuntarily, a cracked and horrible sound. Immediately, Bones’s concerned and kind face came into focus above his own. 

“Jim, you picked a hell of a time to regain consciousness. I’ll give you something for the pain.” Calling over his shoulder, Dr. McCoy asked Nurse Chapel for a hypo, and then pressed it into Jim’s arm. The fires were extinguished and the blackness wrapped around him like a welcome friend again. 

Sometime later, voices caused the blackness to recede. He opened his eyes, and found Bones and Christine caring for him; their calm, quiet words had awakened him. 

“Jim, you’re awake! So good to see,” Bones said, smiling broadly with relief. “Are you in pain?” 

Jim needed a moment to process that question. But lying still, as he was, nothing was particularly bothering him. A little of the body detachment had returned, no doubt because of the drugs. Jim didn’t trust his voice; he mouthed “no” and tried to smile back. Why did doing these simple things seem so exhausting?

“Good, good. You tell us if you are, okay? Just rest now. Everything is okay. You’re back on the Enterprise, and everyone else is too.”

Jim tried to smile again. Bones seemed to understand, and turned back to his work. In a few moments, he and Christine left him to sleep. Before he drifted off, though, he noticed the vague uneasy feeling he had had before, that someone should be there and was not, someone he wanted to see. But his mind was fuzzy and fading fast into sleep. 

Over the next few hours, Jim was visited by a few members of his bridge crew and other friends on the ship. Sometimes they came by as he slept, and he half-heard their soft voices, and sometimes they stopped in during his brief periods of wakefulness. He was glad to see all of them, and they seemed relieved to see him. He could manage yes’s and no’s for a few minutes, and small smiles and nods of his head, and then he was exhausted. It was good to be with his friends and feel their caring and kindness surround him. But still, the one for whom he waited did not come. There was a voice that was missing in the mix, one whose absence concerned him: a tall, gentle being, calm and kind and always wise. Someone on whom Jim depended daily, and who he loved more than he had ever expressed. Spock, his first officer, his dearest friend. Where was he? Jim’s heart suddenly felt heavy with dread, but Bones had just given him another hypo, and he was already riding the wave of drug-induced sleep back into shore. He could not even form the words to ask someone about Spock before the black curtain fell around him again.

It was late in ship’s evening when he stirred and became aware of a warm presence sitting with him, a presence he knew immediately. He moved his hand toward Spock before he even opened his eyes, and deep breaths of relief filled his lungs. Spock took his hand and embraced it between both of his own, his warmer Vulcan skin seeming to encase all of Jim’s body in its comforting heat. Jim tried to speak his friend’s name, but he only managed to rasp it into the quiet night.

“Shhhhh,” Spock soothed. “I am here, Captain. All is well. I will tell you later about the mission, but please know that everyone is safe, and we are en route to our next destination.”

Jim opened his eyes, and turned his head slowly toward his First Officer. He let his gaze linger on Spock’s beloved face, the gentleness and caring in those eyes, dark as space itself in the dimness of ship’s night, the graceful lines of eyebrows and cheekbones and ears. Spock met Jim’s eyes steadily, but his hands trembled slightly as they surrounded Jim’s, and his face looked tight and tired. 

“Jim, I am sorry that I could not come before now. There was much to do to keep our mission from failing. I knew that Dr. McCoy was taking excellent care of you. But…” Spock trailed off for a moment, as if wondering how to finish. “I wanted to be here…with you, Jim. You were always in my thoughts.”

“I know, Spock,” Jim managed. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“Are you comfortable? Is there anything you require?”

Jim shook his head. “Nothing…except….”

“Anything,” Spock answered.

“Would you stay for a while longer? Stay with me?”

“I have no plans to leave you, Jim, until I must.”

Jim wrapped his fingers around Spock’s. “Thank you, my friend.”

“You’re most welcome, Jim.” Spock’s hands no longer shook. He massaged Jim’s hand gently between both of his larger ones. Jim sighed contentedly and settled into a slow drift toward sleep again. 

A few minutes later, Jim was wrapped in sound slumber, his deep breaths coming regularly and his body relaxed. Spock sat beside him, still holding his hand, and studying his face intently. He stayed for as long as his duties permitted, choosing to sit with his Captain rather than going to his own rest. When the start time of his shift began to loom close, Spock stood silently, still holding Jim’s hand in one of his own. With his other hand, which trembled slightly again, he reached to Jim’s face to gently smooth the hair back from his Captain’s forehead. He stooped to brush a kiss there, and lingered for a moment, pressing his cheek to Jim’s warm, living skin. Then, with great reluctance, he straightened to go. He brought Jim’s hand to his lips for a moment, and then laid it down on top of the coverlet, releasing his grip as slowly as he could. Spock took several deliberate steps away from the bed, then stopped and turned for one more look. Jim still looked peaceful in his sleep, but Spock’s eyes were bright with concern, and he was loath to leave his friend. Finally, his time ran out; he was expected on the Bridge. With great effort, Spock turned, squared his shoulders, and left the room.

Bones had come in quietly, not wanting to disturb the two friends, or Jim’s rest. He had remained unobserved by both of them, standing in the shadows of his office. He stood there for several moments more after Spock left for the Bridge. 

“Well, you learn something new every day,” he thought to himself. “It seems that the pointy-eared, green-blooded goblin has a heart after all, and he would offer it to Jim, I think. And Jim might even be ready to take it, and give his own back. The rest of this 5-year mission could get very interesting.” McCoy shook his head, chuckled softly to himself, and began his preparations for the day’s work.


End file.
